


glass house, stone boy

by carefulren



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Homelessness, Pneumonia, Sick Character, Sickfic, and this got way longer than I thought, everyone wants jughead to suffer, filling a prompt for tumblr, same tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9884627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: Jughead told his father that he would figure out where to live, and he did-- he and Archie's old tree house. It was for the best for he didn't want to burden anyone with his problems, especially Archie, who was suffering from the Grundy debacle.He had a plan to put on an act and ride this out until he could find better living arrangements. Getting sick was not a part of his plan.





	

_“I’ll figure it out, Dad. I always do.”_

Jughead sighed, pulling his small blanket tighter around his body as the memories of the drive-in spun around his mind like a broken record. Figuring it out meant wandering the streets late at night—desperate for an answer, or a house for that matter, to manifest in front of him. The nights were growing longer and colder in Riverdale, and while searching for a new place to live, Jughead put all of his mental focus on plotting his novel in order to distract himself from the biting cold seeping into his bones.  

 

He wound up standing in front of he and Archie’s childhood tree house when he was contemplating on whether or not to include the drama between Archie and Ms. Grundy. It was less than ideal, but it was better than nothing, so he braved the rickety ladder and made his way up. For a brief moment, he wasn’t sure that the tree house would hold after the whole thing shook when he dropped his massive backpack down onto the wooden floor, but he froze and held his breath, and after a few moments, the house stilled.

 

After unpacking some of his belongings, Jughead tucked himself into a corner- knees drawn to his chest and beanie pulled down as far as it would go. The bitter wind snuck in through the cracks, and it didn’t take long until Jughead was shivering. He already had quite a bit of layers on and didn’t want to risk getting the clothes he would need to wear to school dirty, so he tried to make do with what he had on combined with his small blanket.

 

However, a sudden drop of rain splashing against his exposed hand a few moments later had Jughead thinking otherwise. He hissed out a string of curses while shifting around until the small blanket was covering his head. ‘Go to Archie’s!’ his mind screamed, but how could he? With everything that Archie was going through right now, the last thing he would need was Jughead’s burdens.

 

‘Betty’s?’ No. Her family has enough on their plate with Polly. Plus, Betty would likely tell Archie right away.

 

‘Hell, Veronica’s even?’ And again, he talked himself out of it. Things seemed tense between Veronica and her mom at the moment, and again, he knew that Veronica would tell Betty who would tell Archie—everything always cycled back to Archie, and he just could not do that, not when he and Archie were doing so well mending their friendship.

 

The rain outside picked up, and Jughead groaned. Even with the blanket over his head, it felt as if each cold drop leaking in was seeping into his bones. His shivering picked up in intensity, and his mind screamed ‘stay awake!’ right before he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

 

*****

 

“You seem tired, Juggie.”

 

Jughead shut his locker. He moved sluggishly until he was facing Betty’s wide, concerned eyes. “I’m good,” he said, thankful that his voice was holding out despite his throat feeling as if he had spent the night gargling glass.

 

“Is this about the drive-in?” Betty pressed, tilting her head in question.

 

Nodding seemed like his best source of reply for he didn’t trust whatever smartass comment was bound to come out of his mouth. He waved the sympathetic look Betty shot him away as the two started to walk towards their third class.

 

“I can help you find a new job,” Betty suggested as the pair made their way to their seats.

 

“I said I’m good, Bets.” Jughead didn’t intend for that to come out as harshly as it did, but he was just so damn tired. Sleep was just not on his side last night with the rain, and when he woke up, everything, including himself, was cold and damp. His sore throat accompanied with a pounding head was just the icing on the cake of his now significantly shittier life.

 

“Okay. Well I’m here for you, Juggie.”

 

The soft, reassurance in Betty’s voice had his lips pulling up into a small smile, which Betty returned before turning her attention towards the teacher. Jughead’s eyes briefly drifted towards Archie’s empty seat; he shouldn’t be surprised of Archie’s absence considering everything that had gone down with Grundy. Archie was probably suffering, but Jughead couldn’t help feeling slightly selfish in wishing that his friend at school. He found that he could forget his problems when Archie was there, but without that stupid red hair to distract him, his mind remained plagued by his severe situation.  

 

*****

 

“Archie said he will be back tomorrow,” Betty announced during lunch.

 

“Is he still sulking?” Veronica asked, earning a light punch on the arm from Betty.

 

“He’s upset!”

 

Jughead tuned the two girls out as he forced down his lunch. He hadn’t had an appetite since last night, but he knew that this lunch would probably be the only food he would get all day. He was already feeling weak enough as it was, so he choked down his food despite his stomach’s protesting.

 

“Earth to Jughead.”

 

Jughead’s eyes shifted until they met Veronica’s. “What?” He asked, mouth full of food.

 

“You keep zoning out,” Betty supplied, but Jughead waved away her slight concern.

 

“Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” He watched as the two frowned at him, and he mentally toned down the bitterness seeping out from getting endlessly fucked over by what felt like the entire town, with the exception of his friends and the managers at Pops—they were too kind to him.

 

“I can introduce you to Netflix.”

 

Play it cool, Jones, Jughead told himself. He breathed out a low laugh, ignoring the pain in his throat. “Is this our future?” He asked lightly, eyes zeroing in on Veronica. “Are we doomed to a future that is humanless and engulfed in technology?” This earned laughter from the two girls, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. Crisis averted for now.

 

*****

 

Jughead’s second night in the tree house was significantly worse than the first. His breaths were coming out in pained, shaky gasps as strong shivers wracked his body. His head felt as if a marching band was parading around, and his nose was alternating from feeling like a waterfall to feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton. He checked his money to see if he had enough to stop for medicine before school tomorrow, breathing out a small praise when his fingers brushed against a twenty.

 

He was about to attempt to sleep when his phone chimed off. He blindly patted around, not wanting to fully emerge from his blanket shield, until his hand hit the small device. He curled his trembling fingers around it, sliding his hand back under the blanket. He found himself surprised that he even got reception this far out when he stared at Archie’s name flashing across his screen.

 

_[11:04 pm] From Archie: u ok?_

Fuck. He thought he had done well enough to convince Betty that he was fine, but apparently his acting wasn’t enough.

 

_[11:06 pm] To Archie: Shouldn’t I be asking you that?_

_[11:06 pm] From Archie: B said u seemed off 2day_

Sighing, Jughead contemplated not replying. He could blame it on having fallen asleep; he knew Archie would understand. But, he couldn’t just leave his friend hanging.

 

_[11:08 pm] To Archie: I’m fine. Just tired. How are you?_

He gnawed lightly at his lower lip as he stared hard at his phone, waiting anxiously for a reply. A few minutes passed, and his anxiety was starting to creep up his throat. But finally, after what felt like years, his phone chimed off again.

 

_[11:13 pm] From Archie: idk im upset but also kinda relieved? i miss her jug but i get that this had to happen i guess. sorry about the drive in btw. i know how much that place meant to u_

 

Jughead reread the words lit up on his phone. He brushed his free hand over his eyes, pegging the tears forming at the corners of his eyes on his throbbing head. He briefly glanced at his charge, noting he had a little over half percent left. He needed to wrap this up for now.

 

_[11:17 pm] To Archie: I’m sorry, Arch. I know you cared about her. I know it’s hard, but we are here for you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?_

_[11:17 pm] From Archie: thanks jug. night_

Jughead pressed his phone close to his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut, praying for sleep to take over as soon as possible.

 

*****

 

Jughead decided to skip his first class in favor of showering in the men’s locker room showers. The medicine he had bought at the store that morning was working a little, but he still felt cold all over and decided that skipping a class for a hot shower was better than sitting and shivering in a class for an hour.

 

The hot water felt like heaven against his chilled skin. It was the first time in two days where he felt warm, and he didn’t want to leave. He wondered if it would be socially acceptable to reside in a somewhat public shower for the rest of his miserable days, but his phone alarm going off a few moments later pulled him back into reality.

 

The alarm was set to allow him time to change and dry his hair before sneaking out a few seconds before class would let out. He planned to use the ‘overslept’ excuse when questioned, and he was confident it would work considering all he told people yesterday was that he was tired. It wasn’t a lie—he was tired, which was to be expected when sleeping in a fucking tree house when the nights felt like they belonged in the middle of winter despite being early fall.

 

Once changed and hair dried as much as he had time for, he cleaned up until there was no trace that he had showered in there then headed out towards his locker. As soon as he reached his locker, the school bell chimed, dismissing first class. It took only a matter of seconds until someone was leaning against the lockers beside his. He shut his locker and gave Archie a once over, noting how pale and exhausted the boy looked.

 

“You look like shit,” Jughead exclaimed, unable to keep the concern bleeding through his voice.

 

Archie dropped his gaze to the floor. “Haven’t been able to sleep well.”

 

Yeah, Jughead thought to himself, you and me both. He dropped his hand on Archie’s shoulder, prompting the other to look up. “I told you, Arch. We are here for you.”

 

“Thanks, Jug,” Archie replied softly. The two started towards their second class in a comfortable silence until Archie suddenly stopped walking. “Where were you first period?”

 

“Overslept,” Jughead answered coolly. He kept walking, and sure enough, he heard Archie start after him again a few seconds later. The pair walked into their second class and were greeted by Veronica and Betty waving them towards the back of the room with big grins. This, Jughead thought to himself, this was what he needed to forget.

 

*****

 

“We should all get together this weekend,” Veronica suggested at lunch. “We sure as hell could use it.”

 

“We should!” Betty agreed, and the two started plotting out the plans with Archie appearing only to be half-listening as he fiddled with his music on his laptop.

 

Jughead watched the three, and for a brief moment, he was able to forget everything. For a small, sliver of time, he was able to fully immerse himself into this translucent concept that everything was perfectly fine. But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. A particularly cold breeze ripped Jughead away from the pretend, perfect world he had conjured up in his mind. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, and he found himself desperately yearning for the warmth from the shower he took only a couple of hours ago.

 

“You okay, Jug?”

 

Jughead shot Archie a half smile, one that quickly dropped down into a frown when Archie continued to stare at him with furrowed brows. “I’m fine, Arch. Just a little cold.”

 

“You aren’t eating.”

 

Jughead glanced down at his full plate of food. Well, fuck. He grabbed a fry, stuffing it into his mouth despite having literally no appetite whatsoever. The fries had gone cold, but Jughead stuffed a few more in his mouth for good measure. He could feel Archie’s gaze on him, but thankfully, Archie did not press further, seemingly satisfied now that Jughead was eating.

 

“So, my place on Friday?” Veronica asked.

 

It was only Tuesday, so Jughead agreed. He had time to come up with an excuse as to why he wouldn’t be able to make it to Veronica’s. It’s not that he didn’t want to go, but he didn’t want to risk anyone realizing that his clothes seemed dirty or accidentally revealing anything that could give off the fact that he’s been living in a tree house. He couldn’t avoid school, but he could avoid afterschool activities. Besides, he planned to spend the weekend trying to figure out a better living arrangement. He needed a better living arrangement; he wasn’t sure how long he could last in the tree house.

 

*****

 

Jughead wanted to die. It was his third night in the tree house, and he wanted to die. He’d been shivering for hours, but the heat rolling off his face told him that it was more than the cold wind that had him shaking like a leaf. On top of that, his chest hurt like hell. Each breath felt like his lungs were cracking, and he developed a cough that seemed to be getting worse with each passing minute. His body was wracked with coughing fits that had him gasping for breath and seeing black.  

 

He knew that he should be concerned. His mind screamed ‘Pneumonia!’ But, he just felt so tired. He used up what little energy he had at school, doing his best to assure everyone who gave him skeptical looks that he was perfectly fine. He personally felt that he deserved a damn Oscar for the amount of work he put in today to make sure that how he actually felt did not surface.

 

‘Call Archie!’ And, he did toy with the idea, but Archie just seemed so tired today. It was blaringly obvious that Archie was struggling to deal with the whole Grundy debacle, and Jughead wanted Archie to have time to recuperate from that.

 

Really, Jughead just wanted to sleep. He squeezed his eyes shut, mentally plotting out the next part of his novel while hoping that exhaustion would eventually win over his shivering and coughing. He was just in the middle of contemplating on whether or not it was important to include Veronica and Betty becoming cheerleaders when he drifted off to sleep.  

 

He woke himself up coughing what felt like only minutes later, but the sunlight pouring into the tree house said otherwise. “Fuck,” he rasped out, voice barely audible. He fumbled around until he found his phone, and his eyes went wide when he saw that he had three missed calls from Archie, two missed calls from Betty, a missed call from Veronica, seven new texts from Archie, four new texts from Betty, and a surprising twelve new texts from Veronica. What was worse, though, was the fact that it was fifteen minutes until lunch hour.

 

He hopped up, regretting it instantly as the room began to tilt. He leaned hard against the wall, coughing harshly into his fist as he waited for the dizziness to subside. He did not have time for this; he needed to get to school as soon as humanly possible. Once he was sure he could make it without toppling over, he quickly changed into a pair of jeans and tossed a hoodie over the shirt he had slept in. He adjusted his beanie, grabbed his bag, and started down the ladder, having to stop every other step to cough.  

 

The bright, shining sun accompanied with relatively warm temperatures should have been a plus, but Jughead took it as the world plotting against him. Why should the day be so nice when he felt so miserable? He hasn’t stopped shivering despite the sun beating against his back, and the coughing accompanied with him running to school was all but killing his lungs. But, he had to make it at least to lunch—it would look incredibly suspicious if he missed lunch.

 

When the school finally came into view, he felt that he could almost cry of relief. He skipped going in through the front entrance, opting, instead, to go around back to the court yard where everyone was having lunch. His eyes fell onto the table where Archie, Betty, and Veronica were seated, and he took a second to catch his breath and straighten out his clothes some before he started towards his friends.

 

“Juggie!” Betty shouted as he approached the table, and soon enough, all eyes were on him. He turned to cough into the crook of his arm before he walked up to the table.

 

He cleared his throat and shot what he hoped was a decent smile. “Sorry, guys, my alarm didn’t—”

 

“We’ve been so worried!” Betty exclaimed, cutting Jughead off. He wanted to reply; he wanted to reassure everyone that there was nothing to worry about, but he suddenly found it incredibly hard to form words. Luckily, Veronica took charge.  

 

“Apparently you are never late for school, so these two thought you died in a ditch or something,” Veronica said, rolling her eyes.

 

Words, dammit. Why couldn’t he get his mouth to form words? And why was it so hot suddenly? He felt as if his hoodie was suffocating him, like it was snake wrapped around his body, squeezing the breath right out of his lungs. Breathing—he couldn’t breathe. His lungs were on fire. His face was on fire. He was on fire. But, when he looked down at his hands to avoid the worried stares coming from his friends, he saw that they were shaking.

 

“Jug?”

 

No. No, he couldn’t burden them. He would just leave. He took a step back just as Archie stood, and what a mistake that proved to be. Everything started to tilt backwards, and Jughead felt himself moving with it just as his vision started to blur. He faintly heard someone shout his name, then everything went black.

 

*****

 

Repeated sounds should be illegal. At least, that’s what Jughead thought when he was pulled from his blissful sleep by a persistent beeping sound. He blinked his eyes open, and mentally cursed. Bright lights should also be illegal. Why did he have to wake up? Things were much nicer when he was asleep.

 

He continued blinking until he was able to hold his eyes open against the light. It didn’t take long to come to the conclusion that he was in a hospital—it was the events leading up to this that were but a jumbled blur within his poorly functioning mind. He glanced to the left to see Archie sitting on a chair beside his bed and fiddling with his phone.

 

“A-Arch?” Wow, okay, talking hurt more than he expected. Luckily, Archie heard him despite his weak voice and the oxygen mask covering his mouth.

 

“Jug!” Archie shoved his phone into his pocket and leaned forward. “Hey, you’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be okay.”

 

Jughead nodded, suddenly feeling very tired once more. Archie seemed to catch on because he whispered “rest,” and that was all Jughead needed, drifting off once more.

 

*****

 

Waking up the second time was significantly easier than the first, but Jughead still felt like the actual definition of shit. At least, he found he was able to focus more when he pried his eyes open. He wasn’t sure what time it was or how long he’s been sleeping, but Archie was still there, seemingly asleep in the chair to his left.

 

Now that his mind was clear, he had time to panic. He didn’t have insurance to cover this hospital bill, he was still homeless, and now everyone was going to know. He wasn’t sure how things escalated so quickly, but he faintly thought that death seemed to be a better option than this.

 

“Son?”

 

Jughead furrowed his brows, and his eyes darted to the right, zeroing in on Fred Andrews sitting in a chair. “H-hey,” he whispered, noting that at least talking hurt slightly less and that he no longer had an oxygen mask covering his mouth.

 

“We should talk.”

 

Jughead heard rustling coming from the left, and he knew that Archie was waking up. Soon, he would be cornered by the Andrews duo with nowhere to run, but maybe this was for the best. Maybe, he could just tell them what was going on and hope for the best.

 

He nodded towards the glass of water on his bedside table, and with Fred’s help, he was able to get enough water to soothe his wrecked throat. At his other side, Archie helped him shift into a comfortable sitting position.

 

“Where’s your father, son?”

 

Jughead looked down at his hands. “He’s not,” he paused, coughing harshly into his shoulder, “he’s not in a great place right now.”

 

“What does that mean, Jug?”

 

Archie sounded almost frantic, and Jughead mentally cursed. This was the last thing he wanted. “It just means—” His words cut off as a coughing fit wracked his small frame. He felt two pairs of hands on him, comforting him, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t breathe. Darkness started to creep at the edges of his vision, and he heard someone yell for a nurse before he fell limp.

 

*****

 

Jughead’s first thought when he opened his eyes for the third time was that this was getting old. He wanted out.

 

“Jug?”

 

Archie sounded so tired and so worried, and it hurt Jughead more than he cared to admit. He shifted his eyes around, but Archie’s dad was nowhere in sight.

 

“Your dad’s a Southside Serpent?”

 

Well, it didn’t take them long to figure that out. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how they didn’t find out sooner. His dad wasn’t in hiding, and Jughead wasn’t necessarily secretive about his dad. He just never talked about him, or his whole family for that matter, because no one asked. Everyone was facing their own demons in Riverdale, and with Jason’s murder, the town’s been pretty preoccupied.

 

Not trusting his voice, Jughead nodded in response.

 

“He stopped by while you were sleeping. He and my dad talked for a while. He told my dad that he didn’t know where you are living now that the drive-in is gone?”

 

Sighing, Jughead struggled into a sitting position, and Archie quickly propped pillows up behind his back. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going to go, but he needed to try to stay awake.

 

“Where are you living, Jughead?”

 

“Tree house,” Jughead whispered in response. No point in lying now—Archie was already upset as it was.

 

“Shit, Jughead! Why didn’t you say anything? No wonder you’re sick! You should have told me the second you started living at the drive-in!”

 

And, Jughead thought to himself, why didn’t he? He had started living in the drive-in right before summer. He had almost two months before his falling out with Archie to say something, so why didn’t he?

 

“It’s not your problem,” he finally replied, voice weak.

 

Archie stared at Jughead hard with furrowed brows for a long time. Jughead briefly thought that he broke his best friend, but finally, Archie sighed.

 

“You’re my best friend, Jug. I know we hit a rough patch, but I never stopped seeing you as my best friend. Your problems are mine—that’s just how things are.”

 

Do not fucking cry, Jughead told himself as he felt his eyes welling with tears. You will not, he mentally continued, shed a single tear. It’s not your fucking style. He brushed the back of his hand against his eyes and sniffed lightly. “Everyone,” he started, pausing to cough into his fist. “Everyone’s been so upset with Jason, and then the Grundy stuff—”

 

“Grundy doesn’t matter!”

 

Jughead raised his brows and titled his head slightly.  

 

“Okay, she did—she does. But you matter more, Jug!”

 

There was so much sincerity dripping from Archie’s flustered tone that Jughead couldn’t help but breathe out a small laugh. This was not how he expected this conversation to go at all, but he found that he couldn’t complain. Now, all he wanted was to do was removed that worried expression from Archie’s face, preferably forever.

 

“You’ve got pneumonia,” Archie started again after a few minutes, pulling Jughead from his thoughts. “But, you’re getting discharged tomorrow now that they’ve got your fever down. You are going to stay with us.”

 

“Archie—”

 

“Don’t,” Archie snapped, cutting Jughead off. Jughead’s eyes went wide, and Archie’s expression softened. “My dad and I talked about it. You are going to live with us from now on, and that’s that, so don’t try to talk your way out of this, Jughead.”

 

Speechless, Jughead could do nothing but nod dumbly. He allowed Archie to shift him around until he was reclined comfortably.

 

“Just rest for right now, Jug.”

 

And rest he did.

 

*****

 

“I’m starting to think they discharged him too soon,” Fred said as he and Archie helped Jughead up the stairs of their house.

 

Jughead was wheezing, unable to get a solid breath in. Stairs, he thought with his oxygen-deprived mind, are the devil. He just wanted to be able to breathe—that’s it. He felt that he wasn’t asking for too much.

 

“He’ll be fine once we get him to bed,” Archie answered with a grunt as they reached the top of the stairs.

 

The three made their way into Archie’s bedroom, and Jughead stopped. The house was big enough; he knew that they had guest bedrooms, so why the hell were they going into Archie’s room.

 

“For right now,” Archie said as if he read Jughead’s thoughts. “I know you will be more comfortable in here.”

 

Jughead wanted to protest. These two were already doing too much for him. Everyone, for that matter, was already doing too much for him. Betty and Veronica convinced their moms to help front the hospital bill while he was too doped up on medicine to fight it. Archie had gone to the tree house to retrieve his stuff, and Fred had paid for his medicine. The least he could do was not take Archie’s bed for the next week, so he fought against Archie and Fred tugging at his arms.

 

“Jug, please. It’s fine.”

 

Damn Archie and his damn puppy-dog expression. Jughead finally caved and allowed the two to lead him to Archie’s bed.

 

“I’m going to go get his medicine,” Fred announced while Archie was helping Jughead into bed.

 

Archie nodded before turning his attention to fluffing up his pillows for Jughead.

 

“Archie,” Jughead breathed out in between coughs. “It’s fine—they’re fine. I just want to sleep.”

 

“I just want to make sure,” Archie said, patting his pillows until he was satisfied. “Besides, you can’t sleep until you take your medicine.”

 

Jughead groaned, draping one arm over his eyes. Now that he didn’t have an IV constantly pumping his body with drugs, he felt like the actual definition of death. Despite that, he still felt better lying in Archie’s bed then he’s felt for a long time. The softness and familiarity was enough to lull him to sleep, and he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open.

 

Fred walked in moments later and handed Archie the medicine and a bottle of water, and Jughead managed to rasp out a weak “thank you” before Fred left the two alone once more.

 

Archie handed Jughead a pill then held the bottle to Jughead’s lips, claiming that Jughead’s hands were shaking too hard.

 

Once Jughead was blissfully drugged up, he fell back against the pillows as sleep threatened to take over. “Arch,” he whispered just as Archie walked out of the room.

 

“One sec!”

 

Jughead’s eyes slipped closed, but he pried them open moments later when he felt something cool and damp being draped across his forehead. He smiled tiredly at Archie while patting the empty side of the bed. “Stay, please?”

 

Archie climbed onto his bed, lying on his side and propping himself up on one elbow to face Jughead. “I’m not going anywhere, Jug.”

 

Jughead’s smile grew, and before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happened to Jughead's mom and sister. I don't think anyone knows, but for the sake of this fic, I imagined that his mom and dad had a falling out. They filed for divorce, and his mom and sister left, with Jughead opting to stay with his father because he didn't want to leave his friends. 
> 
> I can't remember exactly, but I think it was said in the latest episode that Jughead's dad lost his job, possibly having to do with Fred?? I can't remember, but again, for the sake of this fic, his dad lost his job and ended up joining the Southside Serpents. 
> 
> Okay, I'll shut up. I hope you guys like it!


End file.
